Half Life: Micromort
by Tramjam
Summary: A Micromort is the micro-probability of death and in the dark hallways of Black Mesa, that possibility of dying is high for three different employees and their colleagues trying to escape the doomed facility. Rated T for language and violence.
1. Chapter 1: Personnel Inbound

Half Life: Micromort 

Author's Note: _Half Life: Micromort_ has been a pet project I have been working on for over a year and counting, constantly editing and tweaking it to my liking. The story is told from the perspective of three different employees (somewhat like _Pulp Fiction_) of Black Mesa and how they deal with the incident. I have taken care to research every aspect of the story to accurately fit into the Canonical timeline of the _Half Life_ series right down to the exact timing. I have also given each character and side character accurate weapons and Npc's they are based off of from the _Black Mesa_ mod. Each named character is based off of the lockers of scientists and security guards shown in various games expansions and mods. If you look carefully you might even find references hidden (or not so well hidden) in the chapters. So enjoy the story and be sure to comment and review!

Chapter 1 : Personnel Inbound

Subject: Anthony Murtaugh 

Location: Tram 37a 

Assignment: Security 

Clearance Level: 3 

Disaster Response Priority: 

High: Welfare of Research Personnel 

Secondary: Preservation of Materials 

Low: Personal Safety

Anthony Murtaugh stepped off the bustling platform teeming with scientists and security guards and onto the cold metallic tram. Sitting down he waited for the inevitable voice of the tram announcer. Suddenly, the robotic voice came on and he echoed its greeting with an exaggerated tone, mocking the monotonous system. 

"Good Morning and welcome to the Black Mesa Transit System. This automated tram is provided for the safety and convenience of Black Mesa personnel and visitors to the Black Mesa Research Facility." 

Murtaugh looked around the interior of the tram. Two scientists and a security guard were encompassed around him. One scientist, with red hair that thinned towards the center of his head was looking over the Black Mesa Times in the far seat of the tram. 

The other scientist, closest to him, a middle aged man who was 6-1 and completely bald, was giving the guard next to him an earful about the administrator. 

Listening to the news conscious scientist was one of Murtaugh's favorite morning pastimes.  
" and that's not everything! I'm also fairly certain that I heard the administrator is in a very close relationship with a man by the name of "Jude Mossman"! It's obviously a scandalous homosexual affair!" 

Anthony had began to grow tired of the administrator's sex life. He had nothing against Breen anyway. But every time someone started to talk about a relationship, he would wind up getting depressed. 

His last girlfriend Amanda had cheated on him with the facility's popular security guard Fernando Juarez, causing Anthony to go into a downward spiral of depression. He hadn't been in a remotely serious relationship since then. 

Anthony remembered life before all the late nights on his shift. 

His cousin Matt was the one who had referred him to Black Mesa. Matt was head of security in Sector E. He had showed up to see Anthony a few times after he was hired. Then there was the accident. One of the labs in Sector E had burst leaking Ethanol-Monoxide into several hallways. Anthony was supposed to be on his shift there. Matt took it instead to make up for the money he owed him. When the HAZMAT workers arrived several employees had inhaled the gas. Including Matt. The bodies were bloated and discolored when Anthony saw them hauled out. His aunt and uncle never forgave him for transferring his fate to Matt. It took a lot of convincing for him to stay at Black Mesa after that. 

He wondered why he still worked here anymore. 

Murtaugh leaned against the back of his seat and started to nap. 

Subject: Roger Thompson 

Location Sector D Offices 

Assignment: Board of Directors 

Clearance Level: 5 

Disaster Response Priority: 

High: Preservation of facility 

Secondary: Personal Safety 

Low: Preservation of materials 

Roger Thompson strolled down the concrete hallways of the Sector: D Office Complex with an air of contempt. Most of the staff was slightly nervous today due to the experiment that would take place in an hour.

Several scientists were joking with one of the security guards. Thompson's eyes singled out the guard as he ushered in a sense of fear on those present. Roger decided to intimidate them to get back to work. Glaring at the guard, he taunted

"Richards, shouldn't you be guarding some donuts and coffee right now!"

The security guard muttered "yes sir" with a look of disdain, and begrudgingly went back to his post. 

Roger took the opportunity to harass the scientists. "You should be at your peak level of maximum performance level today. Your jobs will depend on it."

Satisfied, Roger went on his way to his office.

Subject: Harold Cummings 

Clearance Level: 4 

Location: Topside Transportation Building 

Disaster Response Priority: 

High: Evacuation of personnel 

Secondary: Cooperation with Authorities 

Low: Personal safety 

Harold stood in line at the checkpoint in the busy halls of the Transportation Bureau. The sunroof dome of the building shone vibrantly onto the crowd below. The faint silhouette of a man with a briefcase is seen on the second level above the hall where Harold stood. 

In front of the crowds a pair of roads that hold several buses used to transport personnel to their dormitories are taking on passengers from the late night shift. 

Nearby at one of the security stations is Security officer James Guthrie. Leaning over the security cameras he waves the next scientist through. To the disappointment of everyone, the pass codes are mismatched from person to person and the security personnel have the frustrating job of sorting them all out. 

Harold hoped that he would get to work on time for the big experiment this morning. If he failed to show up on time the administrator would surely have his head. It would be like being in Harvard all over again. 

The thought made him cringe. Sure, going to Harvard had easily gotten him into the Black Mesa hierarchy. But not without drawbacks. In the eight years he worked on his Post doctorate, the promise of Proton powered electricity excited the scientific community the world over. His initial experiments had opened a new field in Chemical Engineering. Hundreds of jobs were created in the first years of the study. Then that lousy manager Roger diverted its funding to cover an addition to the Area 7 Recreational Facilities. Presumably a gambling hall.

All their research was lost in an "accidental" flooding a few weeks after the announcement. Harold had his doubts about the official findings of its cause. He knew when someone was withholding the truth.


	2. Chapter 2: Tension Mounting

Chapter 2: Tension Mounting

Anthony was awoken by the slowing of the tram at the Sector C Anomalous Materials Lab. The heavy cables holding up the platform moved ever so slightly as the tram came to a halt. He always hated when the cables swayed. It made him feel like the platform would fall out from under him and drop into the seemingly endless chasm below. As usual, his friend Pat O'Conner greeted him at the station platform. 

Pat was the kind of guy everyone liked and was well-respected. He knew just the way to get someone to laugh even on the most aggravating or depressing day. 

They had been acquaintances in high school and went on to college together becoming the best of friends. 

"Good morning Anthony! " He said beaming. "Right on time today sir." "Say , the Decathlon is this evening. Who knows? You might meet someone there tonight!" Pat teased him. 

"Very funny Pat. Just because you're in a stable relationship means that I get to be the butt of all the jokes "Murtaugh quipped back at him in a half-joking half-serious manner. 

"Alright I'll make it up to ya" O'Conner started. " How 'bout you and I get a couple of beers and hang out tonight at the bar 'k?" Anthony pondered over it for a few seconds. "Alright man, we'll head over to the bar topside after our shift is over "  
" See ya later " Replied O'Conner. 

Pat entered the code on the access panel and let his friend through. He walked through the security door to the right of the main blast doors and into the brightly lit miniature lobby of the Sector C Security Branch. 

Roger Thompson sullenly waited for the Corporate elevator to arrive to take him to his office in Sector D Administration. With a slight screech, the elevator arrived at the platform and Thompson stepped into the carpeted floor of the elevator. He pressed the button for the third floor in Sector D. Before arriving on the third floor, the elevator stopped at the second floor. A sense of uneasiness flew into the cramped metal corners. Then it opened to let a man in a blue suit and a briefcase get on the elevator. He looked like a proper man of influence, probably a lawyer, or a government inspector. He must be working for the EPA, Roger thought to himself. If the EPA found out about the radioactive spills near Sector C the whole facility would be shut down. They stood in silence before stopping on the third floor. Roger started to step out when he heard the man in the elevator mutter " niiice placce you have here. "he hissed. "sure would be...a sssshame if something happened!" With that the man disappeared behind the closing steel plated doors. 

Thompson thought to himself for a moment. Who was that man? Whoever the hell he was he gave Roger the creeps. He hoped the rest of the day went smoother than the encounter he just had.

Anthony made his way over to the registration desk where Logan Koomer stood scribbling names and locations onto a notepad by his computer. "Early again eh Murtaugh?" Koomer greeted him. He seemed to hate how Anthony was always awake each morning while most of the security staff relied on coffee every ten minutes. "Same old same old. Looks like you're going to be stationed at the Sector C reception desk again. Hopefully they fixed that blue screen today otherwise you'll have trouble working" he said with a grin." Enjoy" 

Murtaugh sighed. "Yeah, thanks." 

Anthony went to the lockers and slipped into his gear minus one important item. "great someone stole my helmet again!" he groaned. "what am I going to need it for anyway" he whispered as he headed off to the Sector C Lobby.

Harold grew slightly impatient with the security system on the site. It checked over everything

more than 10 times before letting them through the clearance gate. 

The security team meanwhile were trying to keep everyone calm while they wait for an IT person to debug the system.

A security guard was taking some heat from one of the scientists who was scolding him into oblivion.

Harold tried to listen in on what they were saying- 

"I am telling you I am needed in the High Altitude Launch Center for an important analysis" The scientist was scolding him. 

"I know sir we're doing everything we can but... we're only security guards not...shall I say...rocket scientists?." 

Harold let out an inaudible laugh at the joke. 

"Oh, You security guards are overpaid and over-hired. We don't need this much security in the facility. We pay far too much money paying you buffoons when we could be leading the whole world in higher technology by using money for more useful purposes. I doubt more than 1/8 of you guards even graduated from secondary school!" 

This scientist sounds pissed Harold concluded. I wonder what is so important today anyhow? 

"Looks like your pass is working now sir. Have a good one." He said reluctantly.

"You'll never hear the end of this Guthrie! Expect a letter demanding your resignation from the administrator when I arrive!"

And with that, the disgruntled scientist stepped onto a departing bus and left the terminal.  
Harold approached the guard who he identified as James Guthrie. 

"What's his problem huh James?" 

"I'm not sure sir. It seems the longer they wait here the more they reveal their true feelings about their job attitude." He replied. 

As he finished the IT person arrived. 

"Sorry for the delay, I didn't miss anything did I?" He greeted. 

"No of course not" Guthrie answered  
sarcastically . 

"Good. Now let's see if I can fix this."


	3. Chapter 3: The Waiting Game

Chapter 3: The Waiting Game

Anthony sat at the reception desk shaking his head. The computer system was offline and he couldn't recover most of the files. A scientist by the name of Kliener had asked him to tell the new guy Freeman to get suited up and head down to the test chamber as soon as he can since he was running late.

20 minutes went by and no one entered. Abruptly, the blast doors opened and a scientist walked straight past him and started to walk towards the hallway. Anthony was reminded of the kids back in high school who snuck into class to avoid being marked late. he called out to him.

"Hey mister Freeman!"

The man stopped and muttered "damnit!"

"I had a bunch of messages for ya but we had a system crash about, I don't know 20 minutes ago and I'm still trying to find my files. Just one of those days I guess. They were also having some problems down in the test chamber too but I think that's all straightened out. They told me to make sure you headed down there as soon as you got into your hazard suit"

"Really?" Freeman asked "Maybe I'm not fired. In that case let me show you what a genius I am and look at your computer"

A scientist next to Murtaugh responded saying "somebody's hidden my glasses again"

But Gordon, seeing that the scientist was wearing his glasses, let out a confused "ugh...yeah!" and turned back to Murtaugh's computer screen which just crashed into the blue screen of death.

"Let's see.." Gordon said looking at the screen. "Wait a minute this is a windows blue screen, and you're typing on it like you know what you're doing. You're not doing anything."

The scientist spoke up "let me help you" to which Gordon promptly told him to shut up. Gordon reverted his attention to the puzzled security guard. " You're just looking busy. That's your whole job isn't it? Looking busy."

Gordon tried to help the frustrated Anthony. "Look. You have to re-boot it. Where's the reset button? Is this it?" Fumbling for the reset button he mistakenly pressed the alarm instead.

Sirens sounded red lights flashed and the scientist shouted "It's happening! my horoscope was correct!"

"Well that's not it" Gordon said.

"Murtaugh?!" Murtaugh's superior shouted over the transceiver "What the hell is going on up there? Did someone pull the fire alarm or something?"

"Come on Gordon! what are trying to do get me in trouble?" He scolded Gordon.

"Okay you can all go to hell if you're gonna act like that!" Freeman said.

"Murtaugh? Murtaugh, come in?" The voice continued

"Yeah yeah I'm here." He replied

"What the hell is going on up there?" The man yelled.

"Uh yeah we had a little accident, sorry" Anthony said sheepishly

The man kept yelling at him."Yeah? Well that better be the only accident you have up there today understood?"

Murtaugh put his hand on his head and sighed "Ughh copy."

"Damn Gordon" was all Anthony could say.

"See if I ever do anything nice for you again. Cause I won't." Gordon answered.

"As I expected" the Scientist mocked.

"What was that?! You tryin' to say something about me?" Gordon said spitefully at the scientist.

"Man I'll kill you! Prick!" Then Gordon went on his way.

Roger Thompson sat impatiently at his desk anxiously awaiting a report from one of Black Mesa's most renowned scientists, Dr. Heckler, who had a report of great importance to the experiment. But he doubted Heckler's message was life-changing. Besides, the man was always late to work any given day. For all he knew, Heckler could be on a one way plane ride to the middle of nowhere.

Planes.

Roger had always had a fear of flying ever since he was young. When he was about 5 years old his mother, who was a stewardess, was on board American Airlines Flight 191 when it crashed shortly after takeoff killing everyone on board after the left engine detached.

It had taken him years to get over it, but he had finally succeeded when he flew from Chicago to the Black Mesa Facility. It seemed like it was yesterday despite the fact it was over twenty years ago. Some wounds are best kept to oneself he thought.

His recollections were interrupted by his overseer, Dr. Wallace Breen. "Dr. Thompson." He said as if he wasn't expecting Roger to be in his own office.

"The uh...sample is being sent down to the test chamber for the experiment which has been moved to today."

"But what about the inspection team?" Roger asked "They haven't finished checking the equipment yet."

"Yes damnit! I know that!" Breen complained. "But we need to perform the experiment as soon as we can. I suppose Dr. Hecklers report can get looked over later. Besides, the experiment is about to begin"

The nervous expression on Breen's face as he hurriedly walked out of the room was strange. He acted as if his life was threatened. I'll ask someone about that later, he thought.


	4. Chapter 4: Alien Shit Hits Fan, fan fine

Chapter 4: Alien Shit Hits the Fan

Anthony remained at his post waiting for the day to end. 

About 15 minutes went by when a series of explosions rocked the floors beneath them. 

"It may have ended earlier than I thought." He realized. 

Klaxon alarms sounded and fires started in one corner of the lobby. Screams could be heard down the hall and several scientists ran through the halls calling for help. Dr. Wood, one of the supervisors, stammered past the front desk but something was awry... 

His lab coat was shredded and torn, and his khakis were clean but ripped exposing bruised flesh, but his chest...something was wrong with his chest...It seemed to be moving as if there was something beneath it. 

Suddenly his shirt split open revealing a seam of what could only be described as...teeth. And his hands were deformed and lengthened into claws. More disturbing of all, was his head, which was mutilated into having numerous fractures of his skull broken into and brain tissue falling out from under some sort of parasitic thing controlling his body.  
Most horrifically, Anthony could still hear under a muffled voice filtering the chilling words..."Help...me!...I can't...see!  
Please...god...help...me!" 

He hesitantly pulled out his holstered Glock sidearm and regrettably pulled the trigger firing several bullets into where the poor man's cranium should have been. The disfigured man collapsed onto the floor, a mustard yellow blood oozed onto the crevices of the concrete ground. 

He stood there mourning the man.  
Murtaugh whipped back to his senses. It was no use staying in a disaster zone. It was his duty to attend to the needs of the surviving personnel and escort them to safety.

He looked towards the halls leading to the elevator. To make matters worse, there were more of those crabs appearing from out of green...portals into the facility.

This was going to be a hell of a shift.

-

Harold was almost to the front of the line when a scientist came pushing his way through the crowds. 

Cummings could hear the scientist's voice over the crowds bustling near the security checkpoint. 

"Please, this is urgent! I need to see Thompson, a Dr. Roger Thompson! It is of vital importance that I reach him as soon as possible!" 

Sgt. Guthrie walked over to the anxious scientist. "Sir calm down. We're trying to work out a system crash to verify everyone's I.D. and-" 

"Identification?! You don't need to see my identification! The scientist ran through the throngs of workers, past the clearance center, and towards the door. He hollered "I must see him before-" 

The grumble of an earthquake-like force shook the Transportation Terminal building to its core. Plaster and stone came crashing down from several spots in the room and a section of the ceiling smashed through the floor above and onto the panicked scientist before he reached the door. 

"My god..." Guthrie exclaimed, " what have we unleashed." 

Another security guard yelled " Everyone get down!" before Harold was knocked unconscious by a cascade of stone and concrete. He watched helplessly as a moment of pandemonium erupted in the crowds as people rushed over to the other side of the room and Harold Cummings' world went dark. 

Meanwhile in the Sector D office complex, Dr. Roger Thompson had given up on meeting with Dr. Heckler, who had failed to arrive as usual, when his lamp began to flicker.

The lamp burned out. Then the whole room became dark. The offices around him began to undergo the same changes in a matter of moments. Sirens sounded. The Black Mesa announcement System came on. "Unauthorized Biological Life forms detected in Sector C and ventilation systems." The voice of his secretary Ms. Charles crept into his room.

"Mr. Thompson? there's someone at the door waiting here to see you. I couldn't understand his name but he mentioned some sort of crab. Did you-" 

Ms. Charles mild-mannered question was never finished as she let out a blood-curdling scream as some inhuman creature grabbed her and threw her down the adjacent hallway; breaking the alarms, turning the once vibrant third floor of the office complex into an ominous building of silent despair. 


	5. Chapter 5: Survivors

Chapter 5: Survivors

Anthony ran around the hall firing shots at the alien crabs that stood in his way.

He reached the end of the hallway where three scientists were huddled cowering in a corner against the wall.

One of them, an older man spoke up.

"Well I can guarantee that the convention I was going to go to will be postponed or canceled indefinitely. Anyway, much obliged for your valor, officer...?"

"Murtaugh. Anthony Murtaugh." He finished for the man.

"Certainly, I am Dr. Gregory Foster." He introduced himself.

He turned to a women next to him " and this young lady here is Miss Marie Spencer".

She seemed to be in her early twenties and had wavy brown hair.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance" she greeted.

The third scientist, was a middle aged man who seemed rather anxious.

"I'm Marcus Rivers" he said "Now, might I suggest we cease this dilly dallying and make our way out of here".

Murtaugh agreed "There's one thing I've gotta do first."

They headed back towards the lobby and out the blast doors to the tram platform. The walkway was slightly damaged. Anthony looked over to the right of the door and sure enough there was Pat O'Conner, in a small pool of blood lying still.

"Do you know this man?" Dr. Foster questioned him.

"We go back a while" Anthony said as he checked for vital signs.

"He's still alive!" Murtaugh exclaimed.

"Forget about that man he'll only slow us down!" responded Rivers."

"I'm not giving up on him just yet" Anthony replied picking up O'Conner.

The sound of mechanical engines and a familiar voice alerted the four to the arrival of the tram. It's electric lights still burning brightly, it pulled up to the platform. Before Anthony could approach the tram, Marcus stood defiantly in front of his path.

"You're not going to carry that man out of here you fool, you'll get us all killed!" He growled.

"If you're going to be a problem you can take the next tram buddy." Anthony threatened as he pushed the man out of his way and onto the tram joining the others.

"Fine!" Marcus refused. "I'm going to wait for my colleagues and stay here."

"Suit yourself" Murtaugh said as the tram pulled away from the platform leaving Dr. Rivers on the damaged platform behind them.

-  
Harold woke up in the remains of the Black Mesa Bureau of Transportation. Several of the walls had been blasted to pieces and the floor above him had crashed down above his head. He seemed to be trapped under the rubble.

"Help! Can anyone hear me? I seem to be trapped over here." He shouted.

He could hear people struggling near him and there was a crowd climbing out of the building.

"Hello? Hold on down there. This is Sgt. Guthrie, I'm gonna try to get you out of there!

After what seemed like hours, the debris was removed from on top of him. The security guard reached down to help him up.

"I'm trying to get in contact with the facility to see if there was an earthquake." Guthrie told him.

Another security guard ran into the collapsing complex.

"I just overheard a distress signal from a security guard in the Sector C test labs. There was some sort of biological disaster down there...It sounds catastrophic. He explained to his comrades with eyes that seemed to stare endlessly at some unseen terror.

Upon pulling Harold out, Guthrie turned his attention back to him. "Well sir, you seem to be the highest ranking personnel here. What do you suppose we do?" James asked.

Harold looked around as a crowd of survivors gathered.  
He looked at the petrified scientists and the worried security guards. His eyes glancing towards the road as his mind started assessing the situation.

"Split up into groups and scavenge for supplies and anything we'll need. Pack it onto that bus and tractor trailer, and meet up here in 2 hours."

"We're getting the hell out of dodge."

Roger sat motionless in his office waiting for the lights to return. To find this was all a horrible dream. Something other than this horrific experience.

He heard something coming down the hallway. Roger remained still, hoping whatever it was would go away. His heartbeat grew faster as the thing stepped into the room. Shaking profusely, Thompson couldn't take it anymore. Picking up a monitor, he threw it at the unsuspecting...security guard?

"What the hell man?! What are you trying to do anyway?"

The guard shone his flashlight on the desperate scientist. Thompson looked at the guard with embarrassment. He shined the flashlight back on his face. His forehead was bleeding but otherwise he seemed fine.

"DO- I - LOOK - LIKE ONE OF THEM!?" The man hollered at him.

"Man FUCK you!" And with that the guard left, returning the office to its eternal darkness.

Roger would have none of it. He ran out of his office and towards the light of the flashlight pleading, "TAKE ME WITH YOU! I'm the ONE man who knows EVERYTHING!"

The reluctant security guard turned around to face his former attacker.

"Look, You can follow me, but don't throw something else at me or I'll shoot you in the face bitch."

The two went off further into the offices of Sector D, and hopefully towards help.


	6. Chapter 6: Emergency Protocol Scenario 7

Chapter 6: Emergency Protocol Scenario 7

Anthony watched as Dr. Foster and Dr. Spencer attempted CPR and pulse checking procedures on his friend Pat.

"He seems to have suffered a minor concussion, and a flesh wound on his arm" Dr Foster explained. If Dr. Spencer here can restart his heart rate he should be in the clear"

"Yeah IF I can get his heart to start up again" she corrected.

Soon enough, O'Conner started to recover.

"What-where am I ?" he questioned,"

"You're safe now Pat." Anthony told him. "But there's been an accident."

The tram continued its journey eventually ending up at a security checkpoint near the Area 9 Transit Hub. There were a few personnel huddled around a security monitor assessing the situation. Outside the station, several zombies lay bullet ridden. A security guard at the station pressed a button stopping their tram at the platform. Gregory and Marie stayed with Pat while Anthony stepped outside the tram. Stepping over the mutilated bodies of his former coworkers, he knocked on the door which opened to reveal two familiar faces and one he didn't recognize.

"Hey Murtaugh, good to see a familiar face!" the security guard greeted.

"Well, Mark Montague, it's nice to know we're not the only ones from the AM Labs who escaped from Sector C!" He said

Montague turned to the blonde haired female scientist next to him. "Oh, this is Dr. Isabel Stelly."

" I don't believe you met Dr. Pitchford." he said pointing to a middle age man on the other side of the room. He motioned towards the security monitors that Stelly was looking at. "Get a look at this." Pressing a button he switched the camera feed to a view of a security armory somewhere in the Sector B Area 2 Administration Offices. With the press of another button, Montague switched the camera feed to the inside of the Armory.

"Bingo, the mother load!" He whispered.

The room was illuminated dimly by the security camera screens  
giving the room a sense of safety. A long chrome table filled the middle third of the room. On it were multiple pairs of weapons and ammo. Murtaugh could make out 3 spas-12 semiautomatic shotguns, half a dozen Glock-17 pistols with multiple clips of ammo, and a desert eagle with 3 clips. Not to mention a few grenades.

"I assume you're the only person on that tram who can use a gun?" Montague asked.

"Well yes, it's going to be just the two of us because they'll have their hands full with Pat O'Conner, he took a blow to the head Mark." Anthony answered.

"Doesn't he always?" Mark asked sarcastically.

"Anyhow," Mark continued, "Standard Emergency Protocol is to find the nearest armory and escort the scientists topside. We should go to Sector B and grab as many weapons as we can carry and haul them back here to distribute them. There's a service passage that will take us to the security station. If we play our cards right we should be able to bypass any more zombies."

They walked outside the security station to the waiting tram car where Doctors Foster and Spencer waited with the inert O'Conner.

"He seems to be responding well to treatment" Gregory began.

"But he needs rest to be able to fully heal or his condition could worsen." Marie corrected.

Gregory added "He probably should not be walking much either because it could put added pressure on his cerebral cortex"

"I told you they would have their hands full" Murtaugh told Mark.

"Well, Anthony and I are going to a security armaments room to pick up some weapons. Dr. Pitchford will be in contact with me via a Bluetooth earpiece. If you need to get in contact with me go over to the station and tell him."

"Well Mark, let's get going" Anthony said.

-

Harold, Guthrie, and a security guard who introduced himself as Derek Kooy, took off towards the Topside Motor pool to gather supplies.

Derek carefully opened the door to a garage. Shelf after shelf lined the walls in rows. Each row was lined with storage boxes. They split up going off to separate parts of the warehouse. Harold walked towards one and grabbed hold of a crowbar, which he put into a sack thinking it would come in handy. A few rows down, James scanned for supplies. A dog-like creature lay on the ground. It was yellow with neon blue splotches on it. Guthrie stealthily walked past the shelves and looked where its head should have been. But instead there was a plethora of eyes. He backed away as two claws burst out of a closet behind him grabbing either end of his torso and pulling him closer.  
The shocked guard dropped his Glock below him on the ground, but he couldn't reach it.  
"SOMEBODY HELP ME!" He screamed.

Derek ran into the aisle and pulled out his desert eagle and fired three shots into the emerging zombie.

Its claws let go of James as he dropped to the floor crawling away from the monstrosity who created more holes in the closet door until it burst, revealing the grotesque figure behind it.

Its once human host had had his skull broken into by some sort of creature that resembled a headless chicken with teeth on the bottom.

Guthrie reached for his Glock and turned around, stood back up, fired another bullet into it and caused it to collapse onto the floor at last. Harold came walking around the corner.

"Pardon me, I found some-Holy shit!" He said startled. "What in blue blazes is that!"

"I think that might be our biological life forms there Doc." Guthrie answered.

"As I was saying, I found something!"  
He continued.

They followed him to a storage closet. He stood in front of the door with a sense of achievement in his stance and a grin on his face.

"Gentlemen, I give you...the break room!" With that he opened the door revealing a kitchen sort of room with shelves stuffed with food.

"Dibs on the cheese curls! Guthrie announced.

Derek packed everything in the room into bags, Harold found a push cart that he piled boxes of plastic wrapped food from the freezer.

James however, grabbed several bags of cheese curls that he started to munch on. They walked out of the building hauling their loot. The sky was clear and the sun beat down on them with a warm glow. A green portal opened up in front of them, releasing another one of the creatures that Guthrie had seen in the warehouse. It almost looked like a small dog, except for the fact that its face was just a mass of eyes. James froze in his tracks wondering what it would do. It looked at him. And he looked at it. Then it started to whine with a dreadful pain, causing Guthrie to stagger back and drop one of his bags of cheese curls, disoriented and dazed.

"Oh, I wouldn't have done that if I were you pal." Guthrie muttered. With the ferocity of an avenging angel, he lunged at the compound eyed monster, shot an entire clip into it and kicked it, sending it flying about twenty yards away.

"These are MY cheese curls and I'm NOT going to share them!" He bellowed.

His companions stood behind him stupefied. "What in the name of Newton's Law of gravitational force just happened?" Harold cried.

Derek just stood there mouth agape. "It's just a fu#*ing cheese curl James" He mumbled.

Guthrie changed the subject."How about uh, we head back and regroup with the others now?"

-  
"So," Roger started, "I don't think we were properly introduced."

"I'm Louis Jackson, but friends call me Louis." He said.

"I'm Roger, Roger Thompson, Perhaps you've heard of me? I'm one of the board of directors and head of the Committee to Research Possible Consequences in Teleportation."

"Helleva damn job you did man" Lois chuckled.

"Don't blame me for this disaster, I tried to warn them" He lied thinking back on what Dr. Heckler might have told him.

"I think there's an elevator on the other side of these Administrative offices." Louis Remembered.

The hallways seemed deserted as if all life was void here. Louis turned a corner shining his flashlight at something that made him cry out in terror.

Suspended above a pool of blood was Ms. Charles; disemboweled through the torso after getting caught on the fire alarm. Her face had been peeled away by some brutal creature with awesome force.

"My...god" Louis uttered. "What the hell happened to her?"

"This seems to be the work of some sort of squid faced monster" Roger theorized.

"Ya mean like that Eldritch Abomination thing?" Louis asked.

"Perhaps" Thompson answered.  
"I suggest we get moving towards the elevator before that thing comes back."

Louis agreed. "Good idea Doc."

The duo continued through the offices. Passing by the cubicles, they noticed several more mutilated bodies in the same manner.

"Man, this place is giving' me the heebie jeebies" Louis broke.

"Quiet! I hear something!" Roger hissed.

Arriving at the office of the head administrator Dr. Wallace Breen, they looked in to the mess of an office. Papers were scattered all over the room, and several of the crab creatures lie dead on the floor.

A figure moved from behind a storage closet. It was Breen. He pulled out a prototype weapon, pointed at the ceiling and muttered

"These meddling employers and their bureaucratic lackey forcing me to comply with their indescribable schemes. We'll show them what happens when one tampers with humanity. That is not a threat but rather a promise."

With that a green orb bathed the office with light and in a flash, he was gone.

"Looks like Breen was out of his mind after all " Louis observed.

Roger just looked at him and glared. " I don't want to talk about it."

They left the Administrators office and continued searching for the elevator for another hour before they arrived at another cubicle section. Only something was different. The room smelled awful not unlike the others, but it seemed suspicious.

"You sure this is the right way  
Louis?" Roger questioned.

"I'm positive Mr. Thompson." He answered. They went through the dark the pitch black of the cubicles. Roger looked around. He was sure he saw something out of the corner of his eye.

A strange sound drifted from behind them. A gut wrenching grunt sounded from one corner of the room. "Blaaaarrreggg" they heard another from the opposite side. A muffled hoarse breathing was clearly audible behind them. A shuffling of footsteps staggered towards them from all sides. Louis clicked on his flash light to find that they were about to be surrounded by at least 13 zombified former scientists and several ex-security guards in a matter of seconds! He yelled to Roger, "Grab whatever you can and kill these things!"

"This situation is unreal Louis!" Roger hollered back as he picked up a rusty pipe from the floor, while Louis grabbed a baseball bat from out of a glass case in an office.  
"I'll attack the front and you attack the ones behind!" Louis ordered.

Then they charged. 


	7. Chapter 7: Emergency Overidden

Chapter 7: Emergency Overridden

Mark Montague and Anthony Murtaugh left the group behind and headed for the armory.

Mark took a security card and slid it into the port for the service passage.  
Inside, dim lights illuminated the desolate corridors with an ominous sense of foreboding terror.

"Well," Anthony said "Age before beauty right?"

"I'll remember that next time Murtaugh!"said Montague.

Montague stepped inside the corridor with Anthony close behind him. Mark attached a flash light to his desert eagle, while Murtaugh snapped on a laser sight to the bottom of his Glock.

The two strolled down the hallway cautiously checking each door and corner for Hostiles. Reaching a cross road, Mark radioed Dr. Pitchford. " Doc, we've got two paths to choose from. Where are we going?" Pitchford contacted him. "According to the blueprints in the computer system, the route on the right should take you straight towards the armory." "Thanks Doc" Mark said. "This way Murtaugh" he directed. They took the passage to the right.

A green orb bathed the dim corridor with an eerie glow, and a mysterious shadow was cast upon the wall. The figure was clearly bipedal, but with a third appendage attached to its torso and a serpentine head towered over its slim hunched frame.

"Maybe it's friendly" Anthony suggested. "I wouldn't count on it" Montague responded. He peered around the corner of the corridor. It had three red eyes and seemed to be in shackles. Then, it spun around and with its three clawed hands, conjured a green orb of electricity which it shot at Mark, barely missing his head. He dodged its attack and unleashed a volley of small arms fire upon the slave.

Three more of them teleported into the corridor. The guards scampered towards cover and lay down suppressive fire at the aliens. Anthony set his Glock's laser sight at the electric wielding aliens and fired several bullets into the head of one of them, causing it to wriggle in pain screeching and gurgling as it died. Montague loaded a new clip into his desert eagle and rolled to face the other vortigaunts. Aiming at one of them, he fired several bullets into its head. Anthony reached for a new clip for his Glock only to find he was empty.

"I'm out!"

He announced to Mark, who took it upon himself to take out the last vort. Soon the aliens were dead and Mark radioed Pitchford again.

"What's the access code for this armory Doc?" He asked.

"If the security system is correct the code should still be..."

There was a pause.

"Spit it out Doc what is it?"  
Montague implored.

" It appears the code is 1-2-3-4-5" the scientist continued.

"What kind of moron uses that code?" Montague remarked in disbelief.

"Actually, "Anthony spoke up, "That's the code for my dorm room."

"God help us we're in the hands of idiots!" Mark lamented.

"Moving on" Dr. Pitchford resumed.

"There should be a blast door at the end of this hallway. This is the maintenance access to Sector D. after going through that door there will be a door on three sides of the hall. The door on the left is the armory."

Anthony and Mark walked over to the Sector D Maintenance door and it opened revealing the hall with a door In front of them, a door to the left of them, and a door to the right.

They approached the left door and Anthony opened it. The room was flooded in sewage and was clearly not an armory. The two held their noses and hurried out the door which they came in.

"That was definitely not the right door Doctor!" Mark scolded.

"Oh dear! I'm terribly sorry I must have been looking at the map the wrong way." Pitchford apologized.

"Alright then what is the correct door then huh?" Montague asked. "It should be the door on the right Mark" Pitchford said correcting himself.

Anthony punched the code into the access panel.  
"Access Granted." It said. The door opened revealing a room outfitted with weapons. There was a chrome table in the center of the room filled with several types of firearms. Murtaugh walked over to the table and picked up a Spas-12 shotgun, which he strung over his shoulder with a strap, and four boxes of ammo. He grabbed three grenades, stuffed them in his pocket and took more clips for his Glock; which he reloaded. Mark reloaded his desert eagle after getting more clips and grabbed a Colt Python revolver and five grenades. He then packed everything else into a burlap bag and checked in with Pitchford.

"Alright Doc, we got the arms we should get back at the station in 10 minutes."

"Very good. I was listening to a transmission from one of the scientists in the Level 1 Main Facility Lobby. He said that the military is on their way to rescue us. Some of the personnel are taking matters into their own hands and leaving from the front entrance, but he thinks they're insane not to wait for the rescue team." He replied.

"I'll contact you when we're almost back Doc." Mark said.

They started to make their way out from Sector D when more of the electricity shooting aliens teleported in front of them. Anthony was quick to react. Pulling out his Spas-12, he shot them full of shells before they had turned around.

They reached the door out of Sector D and found that it wouldn't budge.

"Dammit! Where do we go now?" Murtaugh moaned.

Montague routinely contacted Dr. Pitchford. "Doc it seems the door out of Sector D has been deactivated and the phones are still out. Do you think you can debug them?"

"I can but I'll need to recompile all the doors in the Sector. This will take about 18 to 20 minutes to finish. Some minor systems might go on and off."  
He answered.

Half an hour went by and the door still wouldn't open.

"Could this get any worse?"  
Anthony groaned.

Finally, Pitchford responded back.

"Mark, I'm going to have to cut this short. First and foremost, I've been watching the security screens of the main lobby. It seems that the military is executing the surviving personnel. Our own race turned against us! Soldiers are on their way here now and I don't know how much longer we can wait to discuss how to evade them. Which brings me to my second point. Seeing as we didn't have much time and I'm still trying to finish debugging the door, I sent the others on the tram to the old Southwest access tunnel on the other end of the facility near the freight yard. As for me I'm going to stay here and finish debugging the system. I know that the soldiers will not hesitate to kill me. "

"Doc get yourself out of there while you can. We'll find another way out."  
Mark pleaded.

"Forget about it. I've debugged the phones and re-locked the door to slow them down. Not a moment too soon. Mark, Anthony, it's been a privilege to know you. Over and out."

The signal suddenly went dead and so was the valiant Doctor Pitchford.

Harold Cummings, James Guthrie and Derek Kooy gathered at the ruins of the Black Mesa Bureau of Transportation. The staff had already returned. Harold looked over the supplies scavenged from the area. 12 barrels of gas, 14 stacks of food from a storage freezer, a stockpile of weapons, 4 bags of pillows and blankets, 3 sofas, a vending machine, 12 radios, 8 computers, 5 TV sets, some lanterns, medical prescriptions, 7 chairs, someone's I-pod, and a small hospital bed.

They carried what could be put onto the bus and packed the rest onto a tractor trailer that had been parked outside the building, narrowly avoiding the fate of the vehicles parked inside its garage.

An additional security guard and scientist arrived dragging one of the security turrets in a cart.

"Dr. Cummings, I'm Dr. Sean Palmer a colleague and I were planning on using one of the ceiling turrets to mount onto an SUV, but we were attacked by some sort of worm creature and I never saw him again. I've been dragging this around since and..."

"What the good doctor is trying to say is," the guard interrupted, "Is there room for two more in this convoy?"

"If you can mount that turret onto the bus I don't see why not" Harold pondered.

The duo mounted the turret onto the bus and Dr. Palmer began to lecture the survivors about its capabilities.

"We have equipped the Mark III turret with laser sights, RPG's and automatic guidance systems."Palmer explained.

The accompanying security guard, who identified himself as Michael Selitto, spoke next.

"If the situation worsens and we need to defend ourselves, you can turn on the monitor in the front and assume direct control of the turret using the joystick."

"We also managed to correct several bugs that prevented it from distinguishing between friend and foe." Sean added.  
A security guard started the bus up and the survivors took their seats on the bus.

There were approximately 15 rows of seats and each could fit two people in them. Supplies were scattered in pouches in front of the seats and crammed in bags that were stuffed in overhead compartments. Med kits were piled in the back and bags of snacks were found in the arms of the staff. A single bathroom was situated in the back of the bus.

Each seat was equipped with cup holders, heating, and A/C emitters. Several screens were playing television shows and a few radios were set up transmitting messages from surviving personnel who were still inside.

Harold sat up and started to announce their departure.  
"Well, we're pulling out people. Say goodbye to Black Mesa and fasten your seat belts."

With a jolt, the bus drove out of the old Southwest Access tunnel and onto the interstate. Guthrie leaned over to Harold.

"I always hated this place."

They rode out into the harsh desert and away from the doomed facility.

-  
Louis ran and swung the bat at the zombified scientist in front of him. The parasite flew off its host's head with a brutal show of force. Alien blood flew across the room and the tortured scientist underneath finally died, collapsing to the floor. Another zombie stumbled towards him. With his bat at the ready, he parlayed a strike of its claw and with his other hand, punched it in what he assumed was the face. The zombie groaned in pain as it bled a sickening yellow blood. With another blow to its head the monstrosity keeled over dead.

Roger charged ahead the other way, pipe in hand. Facing a zombie, he crushed its skull in on itself with the blunt end of his pipe. It fell to the ground moaning and died. Several more zombies turned to face him from where he had stood seconds earlier. Roger stood frozen in fear.

"I can't take anymore of this madness" he muttered to himself.

He looked back at Louis, who had just severed a zombie through the midsection. Why couldn't he not care about killing his own coworkers? Mutilated and controlled though they were. A part of him wanted to stay and fight them, but there was another side of him that wanted no more of this and would rather curl up and cry in a corner.

Roger could feel his eyes begin to water and tears clouded and blurred his vision. The zombies came closer and there Thompson decided.

At that moment Louis turned to see the scientist scurrying away from several zombies, his pipe lying on the ground.

"What the hell man!? I trusted you!"

But Roger continued to run past the scenes of carnage, until he was far from the place behind him.


End file.
